


There's Always Something

by Unknown



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, Starting From Scratch, To Read, enjoy, is up, it was for a friend, just something for you guys, part of, until the next, which is tomorrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unknown/pseuds/Unknown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two days. It's been two days since Bond came back from his mission in France and was told by M himself that Q had been kidnapped from his flat the moment 007 had been cleared of his mission and headed home.<br/>Q is still MIA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Always Something

**Author's Note:**

> My dear friend akumaboucchan over on tumblr is going through a tough time, so on their request, I wrote a little drabble of 00Q. They requested Q getting kidnapped and tortured and Bond having to go after him. So.
> 
> Enjoy!

Two days. It's been two days since Bond came back from his mission in France and was told by M himself that Q had been kidnapped from his flat the moment 007 had been cleared of his mission and headed home.

Q is still MIA.

Bond is insistent that he be put on the field immediately to find him, but there are those in MI-6 and Parliament that have fought against that very thing. MI-6 wasn't about to put their very best agent in unknown danger.

"Damn the danger!" Bond remembers yelling, his palms slamming down on the marble tabletop.

"Leave or you will be removed from the case," M had said, and Bond had heard the threat in his voice, could still feel the threat hanging over him as he walked into Q branch. He'd been called from training for this.

"What is it?"

"We've located the quartermaster," Tanner says and M nods.

"Well? Where is he?"

M is silent before he says, "Russia."

Bond's blood goes cold. Nothing good has come of Russia on every visit he's had of the damn place. He swallows hard and tries to push down the slight panic. Out of everyone that these bastard's could have taken, they took Q. Why Q, he's wondered. He finally asks.

"Why Q?" Moneypenny shares a look with Tanner and the other Q-branch agents look uncomfortable. "Why?" Bond insists and he knows. Dear God he knows why and he curses himself to the darkest parts of hell.

"It seemed the easiest way to get to you, 007," M says curtly. "The man we've been in contact with claims it was the best way they found to lure you out given the nature of you and Q's... relationship." M pauses. "Anything we shuld have been made aware of, 007?"

"Not yet," Bond grates out, guilt crashing into him, making his breath come short. "When are you sending me in?" Not a question as to _if_ they'd send him, but as to _when_.

"Two days," M says and before he can protest, the man continues. "We need more information and you need to be well equipped to get both you and Q out. Then you can go in and rip them apart to your heart's content."

Bond leaves then, walks out and punches a hole into the hall's wall. He thinks of the last mission he'd been out on, the last words he'd said to Q being, "Don't wait up for me dear, I'll see you when I get home," Q answering with a snort, "Don't be ridiculous, Bond, and do be careful. How will I ever get to sleep alone?" It had all been a joke, done in jest, though Bond always meant every word he said to Q, even if he didn't know how Q felt about it. He felt the bile rise in his throat with the anger.

Q’s been the only thing dragging him back after missions for the past year and a half. And he doesn’t mean physically. There’s always that thought what Q would do without him, if he had to listen to Bond die over a comm. link. What would Q do all alone?

That’s what he thought of now. What would Q do all alone with men that wanted to destroy him for Bond’s sake? He felt himself get sick.

He had a feeling the next two days were going to be the worst in his life.

* * *

Everything actually fucking hurts. Q hears screaming in his ears and it takes a moment for him to realize that it's his own screams from the past few days being recorded and thrown back at him. The sound sends a pain crashing through his head like shards of glass. One of his eyes are swollen shut, he's got a few teeth that are broken. He's pissed about that. He likes his teeth where they are thanks very much.

"God, I am obnoxious. Shut it off if you have any semblance of intelligence," he says. He gets a punch to the stomach, making him cough and taste blood in his mouth. He's got a few broken ribs already by the feel of it, a lung about ready to collapse. Well that's just beautiful.

Contrary to popular belief, this does not make him shut up.

"Or not. Why did you take me again?" He can't make out his attacker clearly, seeing as his glasses are laying cracked on the floor. But he knows the man is Russian by the heavy accent he’s sporting when he answers.

“We are not after you,” the man says, which is odd, because Q is full of state secrets. It’s the only reason he can think of that MI-6 would come after him for. “We are here for who come for you.”

Q feels his stomach tie up in knots as he says, “Bond. What do you want with Bond?”

“To kill him, of course,” the man says. “Mr. Bond has taken much from me. And from my men. I intend to take it back in blood.”

“Why use me?” Q asks, speaking through the pain, because this is a very important question to his pain-crazed mind. If they wanted Bond why not just go after Bond? It would be a challenge, yes. But not impossible. Nabbing a government’s Quartermaster is the opposite of efficient.

“Ah, we want him to suffer. He will come. Love will make a man do crazy things,” the Russian says and Q starts to laugh. He laughs because now that he knows, he knows it’s hopeless. He’s going to die here because these men are complete idiots. His captor frowns, asks in Russian if anyone’s drugged him, and at the negative comments, he kicks Q hard in the shins. “You mock me. Why?”

Q winces, the laugh disappearing as the pain starts to overwhelm him. He allows himself one more smile before he says, “You think James Bond is in love with me, his Quartermaster, the man he barely listens to and loves to argue with? You think he’ll come for me because of this?”

“You cannot fool us,” the Russian says. He takes out a tape recorder and plays a clip on it.

‘ _Please try not to kill yourself, James,’_ comes his own voice.

 _‘Oh pipe down darling Q. I’ll be fine. Don’t you wait up for me dear, I’ll see you when I get home,’_ Bond’s voice says.

 _‘Don’t be ridiculous Bond, and do be careful. How will I ever get to sleep alone?’_ his voice responds.

 _‘You’ll find a way with that blasted cat of yours,’_ Bond says.

 _‘R likes you just fine, you just have to open up to him, that’s all,’_ Q hears himself say.

And yes. It sounds like they’re flirting. Q is, he knows, but Bond is being Bond. It means nothing. These idiots. Thinking that a man like James Bond could ever be in love with a man like Q.

“You’re idiots,” he maintains. “We joke like that all the time. He doesn’t actually love me, my God, are you all mad?” He gets slapped across the face, blood spraying from his mouth. Q gasps. He wasn’t trained for this. Not to this extent. It’s the worst thing he can imagine. “They won’t send Bond,” he says, feeling his hope slip. “He’s too precious a resource. They might not even come for me once they figure you’re just using me for Bond and not my state secrets. You should just kill me now.”

The man looks at him. He’s thoughtful. Then he says, “Maybe we will. But first…” He pulls out a metal rod from a corner of the filthy room that Q is in, tied to a chair with handcuffs. “We have a little fun.”

* * *

Bond is more than ready the second he steps off the plane and arrives in Russia. He heads straight for the car that’s waiting for him to get in and drive off to the country, where the snow chills the earth and covers every inch of the landscape.

He’s brutal in his execution. Men go down before they even know he’s there or that something’s wrong. By the time he’s dispatched the men in front of where Q’s located, most of the facility is dead and Bond is so wrathful he’s seeing red.

It changes when he opens the door to find Q tied to a chair, his head slumped to his chest, his chin touching his collarbones. His face is a mess, he’s a mess and Bond can tell that they’ve done a number on him, just by the way Q’s holding himself.

“He said you wouldn’t come,” Bond hears behind him in heavy Russian.

“He’s a doubtful and ungrateful prat if he really thought I’d leave him here,” Bond says calmly, gun in his hand. “Really Q, what reason did you have to doubt me?”

“He claimed you had no affection for him,” the man says. “We knew better, didn’t we, Quartermaster.”

“You’re mistaken, idiots,” Q says and Bond almost cries in relief at the sound of his voice. For a moment there, he’d been afraid Q was dead.

“Q, you’re making a fool of yourself. Do shut up,” Bond says, turning around so quick that he’s a blur, shooting the Russian in the head, point blank. Once he’s sure everyone’s dead, he calls it in, back-up making their way to his location. He runs to Q then, breaking the cuffs and cupping his bruised face with his hands. He rubs the tears away that are making clean tracks in Q’s skin. “You really doubted MI-6 would come for you?”

“Hell no,” Q admits. “I didn’t expect any less than 00 agent.” He pauses. “I just didn’t expect _you_.” He gets an angry look on his face. “I’ll kill M, putting you at risk like that, the clot-pole. You’re too important, Bond.”

“So are you,” Bond replies softly. The medics are coming, he knows, and Q is in no immediate danger, so he takes the time they have alone to his advantage. “I’d always come for you.”

“Stupid,” Q says. “Stupid. They shouldn’t have been right, that you’d risk it for me, you idiot.”

“You doubted me?”

“That you love me? Of course. Let’s not me silly and naïve, Bond. Compare yourself to me and anyone you could have, and the answer is _obviously_ not me.” Bond is quiet for a moment, only looking at Q, his head tilted a little, giving him a disappointed look, one that says, ‘rethink that thought’. Q catches on, his face going a ghastly white as apposed to the sickly bruised look it had going. “No,” he says, his voice shaking, sounding terrified. “James Bond-”

Bond shrugs. “It happens.” He smiles, and it’s devastating. He watches Q swallow. “Doesn’t mean you have to-”

“Don’t be foolish, of course I love you. No wonder they used me to get to you, we’re ridiculous,” Q says once he sees the stupid grin Bond is giving him. “Enough James, you’re face looks as though it’s going to crack.”

“Yes, 007, we wouldn’t want that,” Bond hears from behind him. Moneypenny is there leading in a medic team.

“Careful with him,” Bond says, stepping back and letting the team take over.

“We’ll be extra careful with your boyfriend, don’t you worry,” Eve says with a wicked smile. Q grunts. “You hear that Q, darling. Good care of you.”

“I hate you,” he says, wincing as his breath is stolen by the pain that seizes his chest once he’s strapped to a gurney. Bond walks over before they carry him out, a hand in his hair. He drops a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“See you soon,” he says softly, and it doesn’t matter that a whole medic team is there, or that Moneypenny looks about ready to burst with laughter.

Q still mutters, “You’d better.”

* * *

There’s a knock on M’s office door two weeks later. He looks up to find James Bond standing there, his suit fitting him like a second skin. M can appreciate an agent who looks the part, a perfect professional. Deadly and dastardly, while looking absolutely devastatingly attractive.

“007,” he greets. “Come in.”

Bond sits, a small smile on his face. “M.”

“Anything we need to discuss?” he asks, not sure what this has to do with.

“There needs to be a change in my file. As well as the Quartermaster’s,” he says calmly.

“What type of change?” M says, getting the feeling of where this is going.

“Address change,” Bond says, getting up just as quick as he sat down.

“And what should I have Ms. Moneypenny change them to?” M asks as Bond makes his way to the door.

Bond pauses by the door, then smiles. “Change them both to his address, shared with a partner,” Bond says before walking out. He’s got a mission debrief with Q in five minutes. M can easily guess why he wants to be there so early.

“You owe me 10 quid,” Moneypenny says outside his office. M cocks his ear, and makes out a sigh.

“It was completely reasonable for me to believe they’d move into Bond’s flat,” Tanner says, and there’s a rustling of money as M assumes the other man hands Eve his money.

“No. Q’s got more security on his. And a bigger bed,” she adds in coyly.

“And how would you know!?” Tanner asks, a tinge of jealously in his words.

“Don’t you worry, Bill,” Eve says sweetly. “Don’t you worry one bit.”

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any mistakes, I'd love to be made aware!
> 
> Also the title comes from the Series of Unfortunate Events. It's Violet's little mantra, 'there's always something', having to do with her inventions and ideas.
> 
> Yeah, I've got a lil fixation on that right now. Whoops. Sorry, not sorry.


End file.
